


lovers meet in the moonlight-night

by fratboyoforome



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Self-Insert, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, basically i had a dream abt being fingered by boromir and thus this happened, blowjob, how did it come about?, i'm glad you asked, shameless self-insert, so sentimental, this is just.... gratuitous smut, what you gon do abt it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 04:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fratboyoforome/pseuds/fratboyoforome
Summary: Aradion is Boromir's closest friend, and now, on the evening before war will seperate them, they confess their love for each other in the gardens of the citadel.And then they Do It.





	lovers meet in the moonlight-night

**Author's Note:**

> A scene from a story I will probably never write; Aradion is a self-insert oc, born of my desperate boromir-boner
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](http://ftmviking.tumblr.com)
> 
> i do not accept criticism of any kind

They’ve been standing on the parapet in silence, looking down at the city, for quite a while, when Aradion finally turns to Boromir and asks: “What was it you wanted to speak to me about, my lord?” 

The moonlight illuminates his face lightly, turning it into a study in shadows, and he is so beautiful, that Boromir can do nothing but stare. A wrinkle appears between Aradion’s brows. 

“My lord?” he prompts. 

“I love you,” Boromir blurts out, and then curses himself inwardly. Aradion is staring at him, eyes wide with surprise. Boromir sputters for a moment, and then manages to continue, “I've loved you for years, my friend, but now, facing the truth that we are soon to be parted, I cannot keep it quiet any longer; I love you and I cannot bear the thought of being parted from you.” 

Aradion still says nothing, and his silence, Boromir thinks, is answer enough. 

“My apologies, Aradion,” he manages, “I speak too freely. Please forgive me.”  Still Aradion is silent, and Boromir decides to beat a hasty retreat with whatever is left of his dignity. He gives Aradion a curt nod, grateful that the darkness hides the emotion on his face and starts walking back towards the citadel.  

How, he wonders, is it that his heart is still beating in his chest, when it is broken? By Nûmenor, how he could he be so foolish as to get drunk and confess his feelings like this? He should never have listened to Faramir. 

“My lord!”

Boromir halts and stands, his back turned to Aradion still. There are footsteps behind him, soft and almost inaudible, then gentle, tentative hands on his back and the feel of Aradion’s warm weight pressed up against him. Aradion sighs, and his warm breath tickles the back of Boromir’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“Boromir.” 

Never before has that lovely voice, with its distinctive lower circle dialect, uttered his name without attaching to it a title and the distant respect of a servant. Shock, and the sweeping current of sudden desperate hope, keeps him still, suspended in time, barely even breathing for fear that any sound will shatter the fragile moment. 

“I did not think I would ever hear those words from you,” Aradion says, his voice soft and low, “and I was satisfied to be your servant, your friend, and love you from afar, as so many of your men do.” He halts, sighs again, and then he goes on, “I would have followed you anywhere, even if I had never been more than a friend to you. I love you, Boromir. I did not know that it was possible to love someone so wholly and completely, until I met you.”  

He falls silent again, and Boromir takes the opportunity to turn around, so he can look Aradion in the eye. He raises his hand, cups Aradion’s cheek, and whispers, “tell me again.” 

Aradion’s grey eyes shine bright in the moonlight, as he answers, “I love you. Body and soul, I am yours.” 

Boromir kisses him. It’s a gentle, almost tentative, press of lips against lips, so soft, so nervous, but then – then Aradion opens his mouth, taking control of and deepening the kiss. 

Boromir groans, snaking his arms around Aradion’s trim waist, pulling him closer, until they’re as close as they can possibly get without taking off their clothes. As their tongues slide together, Aradion’s hands slip into Boromir’s long hair and pulls, drawing a surprised moan from Boromir’s throat.  

Boromir’s entire world is reduced to Aradion; Aradion’s nails dig into his scalp and Aradion’s teeth biting down on his lower lip, the warm length of Aradion’s body pressed against Boromir’s.  

All the blood in Boromir's head rushes south, and he is certain that Aradion can feel his cock hardening in his breeches. Still with his hands buried in Boromir’s hair, Aradion breaks the kiss, and reaches up to whisper in his ear: 

“Would you have me here or in your rooms, my lord?”  

Never before has Boromir been called ‘my lord’ quite like that; there is a heady, dark promise in the way Aradion says it, a promise of pleasure. 

“Wherever you will have me,” Boromir manages, voice choked with arousal, and can feel Aradion’s answering smile pressed against his neck. 

“Then I am yours for the taking,” Aradion whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to Boromir’s neck; the kiss might have been chaste, if Aradion had not at the same time grabbed Boromir’s hand and directed it to the fastenings of his trousers. 

As Boromir undoes the laces as fast as he can with only one hand, Aradion kisses him again, hard and deep and desperate. Boromir breaks the kiss when he slides his hand into Aradion’s trousers, and groans at the slickness he finds between Aradion's thighs.  

Aradion gasps when Boromir slides one finger into him, and then moans brokenly, as a second finger joins the first, moving in and out of him slowly. There’s a ferocious desperation in the way Aradion kisses Boromir then, as Boromir’s thumb finds his clit, stroking it in time with his thrusting fingers. 

Aradion gasps and moans against Boromir’s lips, his kisses growing sloppy, and his thighs clasping down almost painfully around Boromir’s hand as his climax approaches.  

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” he gasps desperately, and when his pleasure peaks, soaking Boromir’s already wet hand, only a few heartbeats later, he is reduced to repeating Boromir’s name, like a prayer.

As Boromir slides his hand out of Aradion’s breeches, his palms graces Aradion’s clit, making Aradion whimper. Boromir goes to dry his wet hand on his trousers, but Aradion grabs his wrist, and, without breaking eye contact, he sucks two of Boromir’s fingers – the two that were fucking into him a moment ago – into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the fingertips, and hollowing his cheeks to pull them further into his mouth.

The sight is utterly obscene, and Boromir groans, suddenly reminded of how, almost painfully, aroused he still is. Aradion lets Boromir’s fingers slip from his mouth with a small pop, and then, smirking with self-satisfaction, he sinks to his knees, hands working on the laces of Boromir’s trousers.

Boromir bites his lip desperately, trying to keep quiet, as Aradion pulls out his hard cock, but when Aradion sucks gently on the tip, Boromir can’t help the moan that slips out between his clenched teeth. In the pale moonlight Aradion’s answering smirk is only half-visible, but Boromir knows him well enough to know that he must be very pleased with himself.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die in his throat, replaced with a loud moan, as Aradion, without warning, takes his cock into his mouth, sinking down until his nose is pressed against the coarse hair in Boromir’s groin.

Aradion hums around Boromir’s cock, and Boromir’s bites down on his lip till he tastes blood in his effort to stay quiet. Then Aradion does something wicked and amazing with his tongue, and reflexively Boromir’s hips snap forward, pushing his cock further down Aradion’s throat.

Aradion moans, and Boromir is about to apologise for hurting him, when Aradion pulls off his cock, stroking it with his hand, and says, voice deep and throaty, “do that again.” He licks the tip of Boromir’s cock without breaking eye contact, and adds, “please.”

With a groan, Boromir grabs two fistfuls of Aradion’s hair, using it to hold his head still, and fucks into his mouth. Aradion relaxes his throat, letting Boromir set the pace, spurring him on with whimpers and moans.

Finally, Aradion places his hands on Boromir’s hips, so that he can’t move, and pulls halfway off his cock, sucking gently on the head, before swallowing him down again. Boromir keeps pulling on Aradion’s hair, gasping with desperation,

“Aradion -- my love, I’m so close, please don’t stop, don’t stop…”

He breaks off, moaning so loudly that he’s certain it can be heard in the lower circles of the city, and comes down Aradion’s throat. Boromir slumps back against the stone wall, and watches through heavy-lidded eyes as Aradion swallows and then, placing on last gentle kiss on the tip, fixes Boromir’s trousers, putting his softening cock away.

Climbing to his feet, he presses a gentle kiss to Boromir’s lips – a kiss that would have been chaste, if Boromir hadn’t been able to taste his own come on Aradion’s tongue. Breaking the kiss, Boromir leans his forehead against Aradion’s, enjoying his quiet presence, and whispers, “I love you with all my heart.”

Aradion’s answering smile is as bright as the sun and as beautiful as the stars, and Boromir can’t help but smile back – especially when Aradion whispers back,

“I love you too.”


End file.
